One Day Less
by Feral Piper
Summary: A collection of drabbles based around character deaths. This will include Gavroche, Grantaire, Enjolras, Eponine, Javert, Fantine, ValJean and others. Violence in each chapter, all rated T. Drabble Collection
1. Gavroche Little People

"You need someone quicker and I volunteer!" Came a small cry from behind the group. A young boy darted out from under a table and climbed swiftly up and over the barricade.

"Come on Gavroche don't you dare!" Shouted one of the fighters, scaling the barricade after the boy, but he was too late.

"Look at me I'm almost there!" Shouted the boy triumphantly. His booted his feet hit the filthy cobble stone on the other side of the barricade, sending small clouds of dust and debris swirling up into Gavroche's face. He stifled a sneeze as he dropped down onto his hands and knees, crawling towards the first dead soldier.

_Gavroche grimaced, searching the man's coat and pockets for any ammunition. He stuffed what he found into his satchel, moving carefully over to the next man as he began to sing._

"_And little people know when little people fight. We may look easy pickings but we've got some bite!" The first shot rang out. Gavroche fell onto his back, clutching his bleeding shoulder. Tears threatened to spill forth._

Les Amis held their breath, looking out into the gloom of the street beyond the barricade. When the first shot rang out, they all grabbed their weapons and dashed forward. One man crawled slowly up the barricade and poked his head over the top.

"Gavroche!" He cried, spotting the boys small frame. They all breathed a sigh of relief when the boy rolled onto his stomach and continued to riffle through the fallen soldier's clothing, despite the dark red blood dripping down his arm.

_Gavroche made his way slowly and painfully over to the nearest body, continuing to sing, his voice shaking slightly._

"_So never kick a dog, because he's just a pup!" His voice broke off as the second shot found its mark. The boy's soft sobs cut through the silence._

Enjloras and Marius both cringed, looking away from the street. Enjloras's knuckles were white from clutching his gun so tightly, and Marius was pale as a ghost. Many of Les Amis had gathered around the barricade to watch Gavroche make his way back. There was still hope, the boy was a fighter.

Tears glistened in each of the men's eyes as they silently prayed for the boy's safe return.

"_We'll fight, like twenty-armies and we won't give up..." Gavroche's voice shook violently, affected by the boy's pained sobs. He crawled over to the last body and slipped his findings into his satchel. _

_He slipped the bag off and hurled it back over the barricade before he collapsed again. He bit his lip and suppressed a sob as he struggled to his knees, glaring over at the end of the street, opposite the Rebellion's barricade._

"_So you'd better run for cover when the pup, grows..." The final shot. Gavroche's eyes widened as he looked down at the red spot blooming in the middle of his chest._

"_...Up." He finished weakly, his eyes rolling back into his head as he fell lifelessly to the ground. _

Les Amis stood still as stone, tears streaming down their dirt covered faces. The silence could be cut with a knife as a few men made their way carefully over the barricade, returning moments later with Gavroche's still frame in their arms.

"Do you hear the people sing? Singing the song of fallen men, it is the music of the people who will not see home again. When the stillness of the heart snuffs out the light within the soul, there's a son who'll not return to his mother's side." Enjloras's voice rose above the silence, singing a final lament to the bravest boy he had ever known.


	2. Grantaire Vive La Revolution

I stumbled out of the wine shop, taking in the destruction around me. I could see no man or woman living; not a single soul walked the streets beyond the barricade. Then it hit me. There were multiple gaping holes in the wall we had worked so hard to build. They had won, and we had lost. They had taken the barricade and killed everyone inside, save for myself...because I had been in a drunken stupor the entire time. I didn't help the others to hold the barricade, I had sat idly by. I had let them die.

I walked around as though in a daze, giving a name to each of the fallen men. Babet, Joly, Combferre...I did not see Marius, which gave me some hope. Shaking my head, I stood in the middle of the wreckage. I felt tears brimming in my eyes, and I swiped at them angrily, cursing my ill fortune and stupidity. In the middle of one of my long string of curse words, I heard rubble sliding around behind me. I quickly raised my hands above my head and closed my eyes.

"How nice of you to join us Grantaire." A soft voice said. I turned around and a wave of relief crashed over me. Feuilly stood at the other end of the barricade, his jacket stained red in multiple places. Despite myself, I rushed over to him and pulled the man into a tight embrace. I received a startled oath and a smack on the shoulder for my trouble.

I let him go, and then held him at arm's length. I studied him quickly, and was troubled by my findings. He was too pale and cold to be healthy, and one of the red spots on his jacket was still growing. To confirm my suspicion, he stumbled forward and fell limp. I gently lowered him to the ground, un-buttoning his jacket to get a better look at the wound.

I paled at the sight of the bullet hole. There wasn't just one entry point, there were three. I ran back into the wine shop, grabbing a large cloth as I went. I pumped up a bucket of water, and then ran back to Feuilly's side. I knelt beside him, and then tore a strip off of the cloth, dipping it in the bucket and using it to try and clean the wound as best I could. I worked feverishly, worried for the young man. Feuilly looked off into the distance, his eyes focusing on nothing. His eyes began to slide shut, and I began to panic. I shook him, and his green eyes blinked open once more.

"Feuilly, please tell me. What happened? Where is Enjolras?" I demanded as softly as I could, trying to keep my voice from shaking. Feuilly looked up at me with tear filled eyes, but did not respond. I knew at once what he had meant. I clasped his hand tightly, and then rose to my feet. I walked briskly over towards the barricade and peered through one of the holes. I scanned the streets beyond the wall, but saw nothing. I backed up, took a deep breath and began to climb up the wall of chairs and tables. When I reached the top, I tried to calm myself down before leaning over the top and looking down.

My heart sank when I saw what I had dreaded seeing. Enjolras lay limp and unmoving on the other side, his red revolution flag draped over his legs. A large red spot had bloomed in the middle of his chest, dried blood coating his clothing. I felt tears running down my cheeks as I slowly made my way down the other side of the barricade, coming to a rest at his side. I pried his gun from his fingers, and then slung the weapon over my shoulder. I scooped him up and struggled back up and over the barricade, walking slowly towards the wine shop.

I laid him down on one of the few tables left in the shop, then sadly made my way back outside. I walked quickly over to Feuilly and knelt beside him once more. His eyes were closed, and his chest was not rising and falling with breath. I panicked and shook his shoulder violently. His green eyes flew open and he sat bolt upright, before clutching at his wounds and falling back with a yelp.

"Ssshhhhh, be calm Feuilly. It is almost over." I said softly, trying to calm the poor man. I grabbed the cloth that had been soaking in the bucket, and set to work wiping away the thin film of sweat that covered his face. I began to sing a soft lullaby, fighting back tears of hatred and sadness.

Again and again he would fall unconscious, and I would have to wake him quickly with the fear he would never wake again. This was not like me, but war has a strange effect on people. After hours of sitting with Feuilly, I saw the light in his eyes go out, his breathing stopped abruptly. I thought it was just one of his little slips, and I gently shook his shoulder. When I got no response, I bent over him and closed his eyes, letting the tears run freely now. Why does it matter? There was no other living being at the barricade apart from myself.

I looked around me, pulling Enjolras's gun off of its strap and scrambling quickly up the barricade. I scanned the streets, looking for a sign of the aristocrats soldiers. I saw a small group of them, and a small, sad smile worked its way onto my lips. I stood, tall and proud on the top of the barricade, holding Enjolras's gun above my head with one hand.

"Vive la Revolution!" I cry, my voice piercing the eerie silence of the streets. They turn, and stare at me in disbelief. I don't shoot, instead choosing to drop the gun and hold my hands behind my back, exposing my chest. They exchange quick glances with each other, before one of them take up their gun and take aim.

I feel the bullet piece my skin before I hear the shot. I fall back, off the barricade into eternal sleep, an almost childish smile forever etched onto my face.


	3. Joly Only a Dream

I stepped out from my hiding place and looked around. The barricade was still standing, thank God, but sections had fallen or been broken by the aristocrats soldiers. I shook my head and cautiously moved farther into the open, unsure whether the attack was actually finished.

"Feuilly!" I turned around when I heard my name and spotted Enjolras and several other of the students and ran towards them, happy to see most of them still standing.

They had all definitely seen better days. They were covered in dirt, ash and blood. Shaking my head sadly, I did a quick scan of who was left. Marius and one of the older volunteers were gone, as were Combeferre and Jean. Someone else was missing, though I couldn't put my finger on it. I felt a gentle tap on my shoulder, and I turned around to face Enjolras. His face said something that his voice did not, and I felt my heart sink.

"Enjolras...where is Joly?" I asked tentatively.

"I-I don't know mon amie. Grantaire said he saw Joly take a bullet meant for Courfeyrac: that he fell off the barricade," Enjolras said with sad eyes, "Feuilly...I..." But I wasn't listening any more. I had taken off, running along the barricade and calling out Joly's name, hoping, _praying_ for a response.

"Feuilly?" A raspy voice asked. I whirled around and rushed to where the noise had come from. Half buried under the rubble Joly lay, clutching at a wound on his shoulder, but letting one on his side bleed freely.

As I began to move the broken furniture off of Joly, I came to realize the full extent of his injuries. He had several bullet wounds, and a fallen table had nearly shattered his leg. I felt tears sting my eyes, but I refused to let them fall...not yet. I felt a hand grab my arm and I froze, looking down at Joly. The young students face was coated in dirt and tears. I wiped a large gash running across his cheek. His skin was cold and clammy to the touch, and a small shiver shot up my spine.

"Feuilly...I'm dying, aren't I?" Joly asked his voice hardly audible. I shook my head in disbelief, fighting back tears.

"Non, non Joly. You...You're sick. This isn't real. Enjolras wouldn't let you fight today, you have the flu." I lied quickly, forcing a weak smile. He frowned, biting his lower lip. I brushed a strand of hair out of his face, taking a deep, shuddering breath. I hated myself for lying to him, but...what could I do?

Joly rested his head on the collapsed part of the barricade. He whimpered quietly, tears streaming down his face. I tried to make him a comfortable as I could without hurting him much. I wrapped his chest, wincing at the amount of blood he had lost. With trembling hands I reset his leg, grimacing at the sick squelching noise the bones made.

"Feuilly...Stop." The doctor said quietly, causing me to jump slightly. I looked down at his face and my shoulders slumped. I shook my head, slowly, then speeding up.

"Joly...Non. S'il vous plait non!" I shouted, watching helplessly as the life drained out of his green eyes. I fell back, leaning against the barricade as sobs shook my shoulders. I shook my head, pleading that this was a bad dream. I looked again, before sliding the dull green orbs shut, standing shakily and walking back to the group with my head hung.

_**Sorry this is so bad...I had no idea what I was talking about.**_

_**Anyways, next up is...Eponine!**_


End file.
